


Kamikakushi ~Spirited away

by Lanezeria



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Detectives, Gen, M/M, it's a long story, progressive plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-16 22:25:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 12,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13645680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanezeria/pseuds/Lanezeria
Summary: There are over 80k disappearance cases in Japan per year, and among those, the cases that don’t have any other logical reason than the whole human just disappearing into thin air is called Kamikakushi— Spirited away.Disappearance cases usually mean the person’s running away on purpose; kidnapped; murdered with the body hidden somewhere; suicide etc, and the police aren’t that fast to call a case a “spirited away case”.But it’s unnatural for a whole family in your neighborhood to disappear overnight without a trace, and still be missing for 20 years…





	1. Prologue

**_August 15th, 1995—_ **

“Daiki~, we’re going out in an hour, don’t play for too long alright? Or you’ll be left home alone for a week!” Mrs. Aomine shouts from the living room, her voice slightly raspy.

“Yeaah, moooom, just one match with Taiga!” Daiki replies, flinging open the door and running outside— Taiga’s waiting for him.

“Daiki, bring your ball with you!” Taiga says.

“What, you didn’t bring yours?”

“I forgot mine at grandma’s place yesterday.”

“For reaaal… Alright, wait there, I’ll be back.” He runs back into his house, footsteps and his loud conversations with his mom audible.

**_August 22nd—_ **

Another typical hot summer day, Daiki’s back from his family vacation.  
He finds Taiga at the basketball court, as he’d expected. Daiki sneaks up on Taiga and begins, “Yo, Taiga. I hope you didn’t get worse.” with a sinister smile, and an expression too old and cocky for him in his eyes.

“Are you for real?” Taiga sighs, ”Remember who won the last match before you went away?” now Taiga’s making those eyes.

“That was pure luck!”

“I’ll prove you it wasn’t! … where’s your ball?”

“I thought you have yours so I didn't bring it.”

“I told you it’s at grandma’s place!”

“I thought you’d went there in the week I was away!”

“No way! She lives in Tochigi, are you an idiot!? It takes two hours by train just to get there!”

“Like hell I’d know about where your grandma lives! And you’re not going by train! You have a car!”

“That’s not the point here! And I can’t drive! It takes two hours by car too!”

“I know you can’t drive! Where in the world can a 12 years old drive!? Let me live there!”

“There’s no such place!”

They argued till they got exhausted, and went for the ball in silence.

**_August 25th—_ **

“Hey, are you serious?” Taiga said, looking down from the diving board 5 meters above the pool.

“Come onnn! Don’t be scared, Taiga-kuuun.” Said Daiki and gave Taiga a mocking glace with a smirk.

“I’m NOT scared!”

“Then in, one, two, three, JUMP!” they both jumped at once, and as they dive, water splashed everywhere around the pool. People around fussed and gasped by the sudden explosion of water. At the center, two boys were giggling like they were the only ones there.

**_August 30th—_ **

“... and then he ran straight towards the hoop like a wind, and scored in the last five seconds! The audience went WILD man, but for a moment there right after the score, they went still and silent, it gave me chiiiiiiills!” said Taiga, eyes sparkling.

“SICK!! Damn, I wanna go watch the NBA in person too.” Daiki said, pouting.

“Aren’t you gonna play there? I’ll be lonely if you don’t come.”

“Of course I WILL! But promise that you’re going!” As they talk, they’ve reached the middle point of their houses—time for them to part ways.

“See ya tomorrow, Daiki.” Said Taiga.

“Yeah, see ya.” Daiki said, walking slowly and looking back, seeing Taiga going in his house, all the while wondering whether or not Taiga had forgotten his birthday. Neither of them mentioned anything today. He wanted to celebrate it with him. He really did. A full day of streetball would do for a present. The whole family should come over for dinner. (or maybe not… He suddenly remembered how much they eat. He can't demand that much from his mom.) He went home, planning what to say when he sees Taiga tomorrow, how to provoke him to play harder, and most of all— have fun together.

**_August 31st—_ **

Daiki waited for Taiga at the streetball court for half an hour. He’s late, and he’s never late.  
He decided to walk straight up to his house. 3 minutes walk from the court.

When he arrives at the Kagami house, it was oddly silent. All of their curtains are closed, but their car was still parked. They never leave their curtains closed when they’re home during the day. Uneasiness swallows Daiki as he ascends the three steps to the front door. He starts knocking, but there’s no answer.

“Taiga~? Open up, it’s Daiki!”

Nothing.

“Kagami-san?” he knocked again and again, and still no answer.  
Are they out? But their car is still here. Are they just strolling nearby? Maybe that’s the case. Daiki settles himself down at their front door, playing absent-mindedly with his ball.

—An hour passed and still, no sign of the Kagami’s. According to the old ladies in the neighbor, they haven’t seen the Kagami family walking around. This is getting weird. Maybe they’re at a family restaurant nearby? They must be, they eat like wild animals, it must be tiring to make such amount of food every day.  
Or are they going out to cheer up on the last day of summer?

_I’ll just wait some more_. Daiki thought. Surely, they’ll be back by sunset.

—It’s already dark outside. Nothing still. The eerie silence and the darkness of the house were proof that it was empty.

Now Daiki is starting to give in to the panic.  
They were here yesterday, he saw Taiga going into a fully lit house and saying “I’m hooome!”. Even if they did go out, they should’ve taken their car. They always do.

Daiki runs back home at full speed, running past 3 houses to the left to find his own on the other side of the street. Fully lit, shadows moving around in the window, he knocks the door, and his mom opens. He explains the situation as clearly as he could, although jittery. Mrs. Aomine calls the police immediately, and in a matter of few minutes, they arrive.  
The whole night they searched the area, the city, everywhere, and the next morning, it was on the news, announcing the missing family with their photographs.

Their faces were all too familiar to Daiki, the word “missing” didn’t go with those gleeful smiles in the photos. It made them all feel like a dream— a terrifying and long dream that he could only wish to wake up from.


	2. August 31st, 2015—  6:35 pm, Shibuya police station.

“Kamikakushi“ a long sigh escapes my mouth, visible with the smoke.

There are over 80k disappearance cases in Japan per year, and among those, the cases that don’t have any other logical reason than the whole human just disappearing into thin air is called Kamikakushi— Spirited away.

Disappearance cases usually mean the person’s running away on purpose; kidnapped; murdered with the body hidden somewhere; suicide etc, and the police aren’t that fast to call a case a “spirited away case”.

But it’s unnatural for a 4 years old boy to disappear completely in a matter of 40 seconds with virtually no evidence for more than 20 years and still be missing.

It’s unnatural for a 5 years old girl to disappear without a trace (even the K9s couldn’t trace her) in a small forest while collecting bamboo shoots with her mom and sister and still be missing for years.

It’s unnatural for a whole family in your neighborhood to disappear overnight without a trace and still be missing for 20 years…

Disappeared. Gone. Dead.  
If dead, where are the bodies? Can you be sure that they’re dead without their bodies?

I hear the dial phone on my desk ringing from across the office, and I’ve lost my train of thoughts. I smudge the tip of my cigarette and throw it away at the smoking area, walk to my desk and grab the phone. “Yes?”

“Detective Aomine,” a junior officer on the other end. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“Who is it?”

“A woman named Murakami Saeko.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” I say, put down the phone, and go down the staircase.

Murakami Saeko, birth name— Kagami Saeko, 43 years old, thin and pale. Married. No children. Mr. Kagami’s younger sister. Taiga’s aunt.

“Good evening, Murakami-san. What brings you here today?” I say, but I know why she’s here.

I can smell her sweet perfume as I sit across her. Black wavy short hair framed her face and touched her shoulders. Almost no makeup, and still a natural beauty at this age. Hands on laps, seems like she’s trying to look relaxed, but her white blouse is tightened around her arms and chest from her tight, nervous clench. Sitting cross-legged in beige heels, a long skirt in the same color covered the seat. She looks at me intently, eyes piercingly strong, like Taiga’s. (Only the expression though, he got his hair/eye color from his mom.)

She wants an update.

“I’m sorry you have to hear this again but, there’s still no update,” I say.

“Still nothing?” her composure breaks “20 years since they went missing, and you’ve been in charge of it for what, 3 years now. How come that there’s still nothing?”

“I understand your frustration ma’am. We’re doing our best.” A moment of silence ensues. She must be sick of hearing this. ”He was my friend. I won’t give up on this case so easily. We just don’t have enough information to work on. Almost nothing.” I add.

She sighs, “There should be at least _something_. Anything. Please, at least find my nephew. My brother and sister, I give up. They’re adults; they could’ve reached out themselves if they wanted to… or if they were given the chance.” Horror sweeps her face with those words. ” I know it’s hopeless for them, _but please_ , find my nephew.” Despair.

“…Of course, ma’am.”

“… if he’s alive, he’d be the same age as you. 32?”

“32. We went to the same school.”

“Same class?”

“Twice. In our 1st and 4th grade.”

“I remember seeing you two argue about the most trivial things…” a sad smile sneaks up on her. ”I should go now. It’s getting late.”  
We both stand up, and I walk her to the front.

“Take care, ma’am. I will contact you if we find anything new.”

“Thank you. And you take care” She looks at me in the eyes one last time before going and says, “Find him.”

She’s walking away slowly, and just when I’m about to turn back to the office, I hear her shout “Oh, and happy birthday, Aomine-san!”

Happy birthday. Yeah, it’s my birthday today. I forgot about it.

* * *

 

I slump into my chair, nothing but the Kagamis in mind. 20 years huh. That’s almost 2/3rd of my entire life.

I need to go over the case again, or else I’ll go mad.

A whole family wiped out without a trace.

The police investigated the house thoroughly and didn’t find a single fingerprint or a strand of hair of a stranger. The household objects were all neatly tucked away and everything cleaned. If it was a murder, the murderer has done an impressive job carefully cleaning the scene.

If it was them leaving their home by their own will (which I doubt) Three things stand out the most:

\- No shoes were missing. All the shoes they usually wear have been reported to be there by the family and friends. _Except for Taiga’s slippers_.

\- The scene was too clean. Even the windows were washed thoroughly, which can also be explained as summer cleaning. Except, not a single fingerprint of the family was found on the overly cleaned surfaces. _Not one._

\- All of the keys to the house were found inside. Mr. Kagami’s, Mrs. Kagami’s, Taiga’s, and a spare.

I would go with the murder, but the bodies are missing. Also, Taiga’s slippers. It could mean he ran away in time. It could also mean he ran away just to be murdered somewhere else. After all, he’s still missing. His slippers too— still missing.

But if so, why? What’s the motive?

We’ve searched and researched every connection, every single person this family had ever interacted with as much as detective-ly possible, and nothing. They were nice people doing good things and did more help than harm in this world.

Financial situation? Perfectly fine.

Social status? Respectable.

Spare time hobbies? Travel, basketball, and, wait for it. Volunteer.

Enemies? None.

No suspect then. Alright. …Or, we might be looking for the answer in the wrong places.

“Where are you Taiga?” I sigh, ”You promised to see me on my birthday, bastard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two other examples of a spirited away case actually did happen in Japan. The boy is questionable, but the girl was never found.


	3. August 31st, 1995—     01:32 am, Shibuya area, Kagami household.

 

I hear a sound downstairs— meat and bone chopping sound on a wood board.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

We usually buy our meat in big chunks or sometimes, the whole leg or the whole body. (I don’t understand how people manage to survive on those tiny pieces sold in supermarkets.)

Still, it’s unusual for my parents to be sorting the meat in the middle of the night.

Is it because it’s Daiki’s birthday tomorrow? Are they making a feast?  
But I’m surprised to hear only the hard thuds and not a single voice. Maybe they're trying to not wake me up.

I peek through the window and see Daiki’s house dark and asleep.  
I’m wide-awake, getting excited to surprise him.

I need some air. Maybe hang out at the streetball court. I find my slippers and go down the stairs as quietly as I can. I’d be in trouble if mom and dad find me up this late.

We have three bedrooms upstairs; mine, mom and dads, and a spare for guests. Downstairs, our kitchen, living and dining space are in one room (LDK), on the right side of the front door. To the left is the washroom. The corridor from the door leads straight to the staircase.

As I reach the first floor, I walk slowly towards the front door. I find the living room door slightly open, just enough to peek. I glance at the kitchen, cautious of my parents, and then I see him.

He stood in an all-white kitchen covered completely in blood. Tall as a mountain, he’s clad in all black with everything but his eyes covered. In his hand is a huge knife, and on the counter in front of him— my father’s bodiless arm on a wooden board. I recognize the scar on his hand from the barbeque last week.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._ Go his fingers, one by one on a bloodbath. I can see the finger bones, as white as the pearls mom loved to wear—and immediately, my eyes find their way to the dining table where her pearls lay beside a completely chopped up naked human body and a head with blazing red hair— my mothe—.

I gasp, but I manage to cover my mouth. I want to puke. I gulp it down somehow.  
I stand there motionless. Terrified. Can’t breathe. Can’t move. Can’t even think—completely blank.

I force myself to be alert. _Breathe._

I move slowly towards to backdoor. Slowly. Slowly. Quietly. No time to panic right now.  
As I open the door, careful not to make it creak, I eye my way to the main road, and as soon as my body was outside, I abandon the door behind with a bang and try to run as fast as I can. My legs tremble and won’t cooperate as I wish. They’ve gotten heavier, ready to crash down to the ground at any given minute, but I can’t stop now. At least I have to move, even if I had to crawl.

I want to scream but I’ve lost my voice. 

I know he’s coming after me. I can’t hide in someone else’s house. They’ll be killed too.  
No. Stay away from Daiki. _Stay away._

Police! Where was the police station? I have no clue.  
Anywhere where people are is better.

_Cooperate!_ I command my legs, but they won’t stop trembling.

I grab my slippers in my hands and start running barefoot. The ground is cold and rough, but it's stable.

I’m sniffling as I’m running. There's a huge lump in my throat and my eyes are losing focus as tears build up, blurring my vision. I try to gulp it down, but it won’t go away. I feel my body wanting to give in to it, shaking. _Not now, Taiga.  
_

 

_Not. Now._


	4. August 31st, 2015— 22:56 pm, Shibuya police station.

“How fast can you run, Takagi?” I ask my partner, Takagi Shinya.

Well built. Athletic. Cunning. Laid-back. He always wears a vest over his white shirt, along with the tie and the suit. I don't even wear a tie, let alone the vest, but he thinks it makes him look like a real detective. I don't know how much real-er he wants to get than the way he already is, being a registered detective by the government.  
He and I are the tallest guys in the division, him being 189, and I’m 194. That makes us the tallest duo here.

“What’s that all of a sudden huh? Aomine” he looms in, his hand landing on my desk as he reaches back for a chair, and settles himself.

“The Kagami family case.” I say.

”I’m a little faster than the average but not the fastest.” he says.

“Then how fast can you run in your slippers?”

“In my slippers? Maybe 20% slower? I’ve never done it.”

“20%... yeah, we’ll have to try it. Come with me for a minute.” I say, bringing out my stopwatch, and walk towards the door.

“You want to try it… now? I’m exhausted man, c’mon, leave it for tomorrow.” he complains with his entire body, leaning back in his chair, throwing his long legs out.

“You’ll blow us both with that attitude one day. You know how important time is for us.”

“Ugh, alright, what do you want me to do?” he groans, following me outside.

The Shibuya Police Station is right in the middle of all the Shibuya traffics. Right in front of the station is a pedestrian bridge. Across the road, there's a convenience store around the corner, about 150~ meters away.

“Run as fast as you can like your life depends on it, and get a pair of new slippers from the convenience store.” I say, and he reluctantly starts running, taking the bridge.

Start, 1, 2, 3, 4….. I press stop when he turns right and goes out of sight. 11.47 seconds. Not bad. Pretty good actually, as expected of a former soccer team captain.

He’s walking back with a new pair of slippers in his hands, then puts them on, and waits for me to speak. He looks tired. We both are. So I tell him, “Run back to the store like your life depends on it, and… get us some beer.”

“Now you’re talking.” he says with a smile and starts running. Start, 1, 2, 3, 4….. stop. 13.53 seconds.

I’m already at my desk, doing the calculation when Takagi's back with a bag full of beers and snacks.

13.53 seconds. That’s 15% slower than the first run. Even a 1% can be fatal.  
Considering that Taiga was 12 years old at that time, and had above average speed, long limbs, good stamina, good reflexes, and strong mental strength— even with all those, will a 12 years old in his slippers be able to escape an adult?

“Hey, do you really think that boy ran in his slippers? Barefoot’s way faster and less annoying if you ask me.” Takagi peeks in with a beer in his hand.

“He would’ve started off with them. It’s likely that he switched to barefoot if he wasn't caught already. If so where are the slippers? Did the murderer get rid of them? Risking to be suspected after all those cleanings?”

“Man, he sort of gave himself away with that.” he leans back in his chair, “Or she. Maybe it’s a woman. They’re good with that tedious stuff. Or even both. The man did the killing, and the woman did the cleaning.”

“How did they get in then? There’s no clue of forced entrance. None of the locks were changed either.”

“Lockpicking?”

“They had alarms on their door and on all of their windows, activated at night. If it goes off, it should automatically inform the security company. But they confirmed that it hadn’t gone off even once before the police kicked in.”

“And no one saw any strangers around, or heard any loud sound huh.”

“Nothing. I was at their front door for the whole day the next day.”

“Which is why the other guys have given up on this case… No clue whatsoever, except for those slippers and the cleaning.” He leans back and takes a sip.

“I need a beer,” I say as I lean back, and Takagi passes me one from the plastic bag.

It’s gonna be a long night.

* * *

_September 1 st, 2015 - 8:20 am_

“Detective Aomine. I need you in my office.” Inspector Toda says bitterly through the dial phone.

“Right away, sir.” I put down the phone, walk across the office, past the guests' area where I spot Takagi sleeping. I could use a sleep too after an all-nighter.

I knock the Inspector’s office door and let myself in as I hear him say, “Come in.”

“Have can I help you, sir?”, I say. I have a bad feeling.

He’s standing behind his desk, looking serious. An opened envelope and a letter lay on his desk.

“Detective Aomine.” He clears his voice, making it lower. “I’ve got a transfer order from the higher-ups today. You’re going to Tochigi.”

“… Tochigi, sir?” I’m confused.

“You heard it right. You’re asked to be relocated there by the end of this week, and be ready to start your job there by Monday next week." he looks at his desk calendar, "It’s Wednesday today, you have three days to clear out.”

“Please wait," I stumble over my words, "may I ask about the reason?”

“They need more people to work on their cases. Skilled people. I’m not willingly letting you go. You’re a brilliant detective. But they’ve asked for you specifically. Takagi will be paired up with someone else, maybe a junior so he can teach. I was informed that you’ll be paired up with a guy named Kanda Kuugo. Get yourself prepared, detective. You’re free to go now.” he says, and turns around to the window behind his chair, expecting my leave.

And just like that, I’m released from all the cases I was working on. Including the Kagami's.


	5. August 31st, 1995— 01:55 am, Shibuya area.

The man came out chasing me without losing a beat.

I think I ran for about 5 minutes by now, and I still hear the man huffing behind me. He’s not making a sound. He doesn’t want to gather attention.  
My voice hasn’t returned yet. 

  
I’m almost at the Shibuya station. I see the undying lights, still full of life even well past midnight.

The man behind is getting tired. I hear him cough once in a while.

 _Keep running. Don’t stop, keep running,_ I remind myself.

I’m glancing up at the road mirrors at every crossroads and turn I come across. So far, I know the man is tall and muscular but lean, not bulky. He’s clad all in black and— his leg is injured.

I can’t see much from the mirrors as I run, but he’s limping badly. That’s why he hasn’t caught me yet.

_Faster. Run faster._

  
My soles are sore. The road is cold but the rough surface is causing friction. I might be bleeding… or close to.  


Suddenly, cold chills run through my spine. I feel a hand reaching for me from behind, barely touching my shirt and trying to grab me.


	6. September 6th, 2015— 08:15 am, Tochigi city police station.

At the north in the busy part of the city, right around where the residential area and the public area meet, there's a pale-orange and white four-story building with a steel fence that says “Tochigi Prefecture, Tochigi City Police Station” on the gate. The third floor is where the detectives work.

After greeting the inspector here, and an awkward general introduction, I’m at my new desk, unboxing my belongings. The building’s way smaller and quieter here compared to the 61.6m tall Shibuya station. The city has fewer people, which must also mean less crime.

I wonder why I was called here.

The guy called Kanda Kuugo who’s supposed to be my partner hasn’t arrived yet.  
His desk is right next to mine, neatly cleaned, not a single dust on it. Almost too clean for a man’s desk.

I dig out the folder for the Kagami family case from my belongings and put it out on my desk. I secretly copied the material and brought it with me this far. Apparently, they're considering to persuade Mrs. Murakami to take down the case, but I doubt she'll back down that easily. For now, I at least managed to persuade Takagi to keep up with the investigation.

“Detective Aomine Daiki?” I hear a man’s deep clear voice from behind.

“Yes?” I turn around.  
A man around the same height as me stands there. He’s wearing a white shirt under his dark gray suits, black tie, and black leather shoes. I can tell he’s muscular, and yet he’s lean, not bulky. He must play some kind of sports. He has short black hair, and strong features, especially his eyes. They look oddly familiar.  
As I study him, his eyes travel through my face, hair, clothes, and shoes— everywhere, over and over again, like a dog sniffing for a bone. _What’s his business?_

“How can I help you?” I finally ask.

“Kanda Kuugo” he offers his hand with a huge grin. I take it.

“Aomine Daiki. Hope we’ll get along.”

“Yeah, same here.” Release hands. He glances at my desk. The Kagami family folder sits on top of everything. _I should've put the fucking folder away._  
He’s silent for a moment, looking surprised before saying, “A spirited away case?”

“Yeahh, no. I don’t think so.” I say.

“What did you find so far?”

“I’m working on this alone. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Ha! Worry huh.” He burst a laugh and settles in his chair as he says, ”You can do whatever you want, detective, just don’t get us in trouble.”

“Right.”

I don’t trust him yet.


	7. September 6th, 2015—     10:30 am, Shibuya police station

Detective Takagi is in the document storage room, bringing up the Kagami family case folder.

“Keep up with the case, you say…” he sighs, scratching his head with another folder he was holding. “But there’s nothing to keep up with.”

The case was assigned to— or rather— claimed by his former partner, Aomine Daiki, who just got transferred. Aomine was persistent in working on the case since first joining the police when he was in his early 20s, but only got hold of it 3 years ago. The guys here don’t like this case at all since there’s nothing to work on and nothing you can actually do about. So now that Aomine was gone, the case was to be considered closed, and Takagi would’ve just went with the flow if it wasn’t for Aomine himself asking Takagi to keep it up.

It’s not in his nature to get to something he was asked right away, especially if it’s not something officially his. He wasn’t a slacker nor did he like doing things half-assed. He just liked to do things in his own pace, and he was thinking of Aomine’s case the same way, but this morning while he was getting himself a new box of cigarette, he saw Mrs. Murakami stepping into the police station and inspector Toda greeting her at the gate to take her inside himself. It’s a rare sight to see the inspector greeting someone at the gate, except for some special occasions. He suspected that it means they’re already trying to get rid of the case, and that immediately alarmed him into action.

“Disappearance huh…” another sigh. _Or maybe an imaginary smoke_ , he thinks. He needed a cigarette. He always does at times like these. “…I’ll try looking into other disappearance cases.”

He’s bringing several folders of disappearance cases to his desk when he sees Mrs. Murakami coming out of inspector Toda’s office, angry. He could almost see steams coming off of her, and out from the office door as if she just came out of a sauna and left the door open.

He impulsively starts following her, but he didn’t know what to say when she’s listening. Maybe he’ll tell her not to give up hope, but on what ground? He felt as hopeless about the case as anyone else. Or maybe he’ll tell her to give up already. That’ll save her some stress and tears, he thought, so she can finally move on.

He didn’t want to have suspicion arising in the office, so he walks after her slowly, in his usual pace, but as soon as they were both outside, he’s almost running.

“Mrs. Murakami!” He calls, but she doesn’t stop. “Mrs. Murakami, please wait… Aomine wanted me to tell you something.” he adds.

She stops, turns around, and studies him. “You are…?”

He smiles, “We need a quieter place to talk. It’s too busy around here.”

They settle down in a little café in the shopping mall, both with a cup of black coffee. She seems anxious to get out of here, he observes, but she’s willing to listen.

“I’m Takagi Shinya. Aomine’s… former partner.” He says.

“I heard he got transferred, so it was true.” She says with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“Yes, to Tochigi. He’s starting his work there today.”

She nods, “and you were saying…?”

He starts speaking in a low, hushed voice, “Aomine left the Kagami family case with me. It’s not officially my case, but I can still work on it, as long as I’m being cautious not to be found out.”

 _I’m a fool_ , he noted to himself.

Her eyes are wide and serious now, “so you’re not giving up?”

“No, ma’am, not until the case is officially closed.”

She’s almost glowing with hope before her frown takes over “…why do you need to be so secretive? Isn’t it allowed to take your partner’s unsolved case?”

“It would’ve been fine with any other cases. But this case, ma’am, had no progress at all for 20 years. The higher-ups don’t think it’s worth keeping.”

“…Right.” She mumbles. She’s deep in thoughts.

“So, I know it’ll be stressful for you, but if you can manage to resist their attempts to take the case down, I’ll be able to work on it.” Takagi says, and she nods.

It was noon already when they finally notice the time.  
After expressing her gratitude, Mrs. Murakami left the table first, apologizing for being in such a rush, leaving Takagi alone to reflect on what just happened.

He’s done it. He’s now completely taken over the case.

He takes a sip of his now cold black coffee while looking out through the window down at the busy Shibuya traffic, thinking to himself, _What in the fucking world am I going to do now?_


	8. August 31st, 1995—     02:30am, Shibuya.

Shibuya was full of lights and drunk people at this hour. 

I lost the man who was chasing me.  
Or rather, he lost me. I kicked his bleeding leg when he tried to grab me, and he fell on the ground, moaning and cursing. 

I need to report it to the police— I won’t. Can’t.

But I do need to go see _him._

I’ve stolen a hoodie, pants, and boots, each from different drunkards, and some money from all of them. I needed something to be able to blend into the crowd. Anything but the pajamas and slippers I had.

The clothes fit me alright. At 12, I’m 167cm. I can pass as a grown up if I hide my face.

I doubt that man will come after me this far considering how he avoided gathering attention.

—At 4:30, I get on the earliest train to Minami-Kurihashi station, and then a bus to Tochigi from there. I remember we took that route time and time again when grandma got sick and we couldn’t use our car. It’s difficult to repair dad’s retro car when it breaks down.

_Dad... Mom..._

I shake my head, trying to shake the flashbacks away.

_Don’t think about it. Stop trembling. Breathe._

There aren’t many people on the train this early. The ones who are here are either sleeping or pretending to be asleep. I sink deeper into the seat and pull the hoodie down my face a little more. It makes me feel safer.

Across the seat through the opposite window, I can see the dawning sky.

_Happy birthday, Daiki._

I wish you were here with me.  
Either out of pride or out of trust— at least I wouldn’t have been so scared.


	9. April 17th, 1972—  Fukushima

Spring came just two weeks ago. Sakura’s blooming everywhere, followed by celebrations and laughter. Children start their new school year and make new friends. April brings new beginnings. It’s the brightest and the most colorful time of the year.

That’s what mom used to tell us about what’s outside the village in April.  
We’ve never seen it.

In an isolated area in Fukushima prefecture, there’s a small village that was abandoned a decade ago.  
Abandoned by the whole country.

There was an outbreak of a highly contagious and fatal disease in the village, and despair followed its shadows.

The government banned any form of contact with the villagers, and despite being told to “not even attempt to get out of the village, or you’ll be shot on the spot.”, many villagers did try to escape, with no success.

There weren’t many people here, to begin with. That’s what mom said. But right now, I only really know 3 alive, including the two of us.  
Mom believed more people were killed by the guns than by the disease. She hated the government until her last breath.

“Nao-nii, what’s in the water down there?” Chika asks, looking down the empty well in the forest behind our house.

She’s the only family I was left with. Her short curly hair barely touches her neck, just how long as mom used to cut them, but shaped clumsier since I was the one who cut them. She’s too skinny for 7 years old, still wearing the pale yellow dress that mom made her two years ago from her own old dress.  
_It used to be brighter_ , mom used to say, _like Chika’s smile_.

Both of us just stopped growing at some point. Not that I know how tall we should actually be, but I’m guessing at least around a grown up’s chest, not the waist.

“Maybe frogs, or insects, or leaves… I don’t know. It’s no use looking down. It’s too dark down there.” I say, hoping she won’t fall down the well.

“I want a frog.” She says, with sparkling eyes. Her smile is like the sun, but her eyes are like the night sky full of stars—big, shiny, and dark.

“They live in the water, and where do you think we get that?”

She pauses, “… when it rains?”

“…and when it snows. We have no room for frogs, they’ll use up our precious water, you understand?” 

“…okay…” she mumbles, looking dejected.

Our mom was a strong woman. She was smart enough to not attempt a rash escape plan, but instead, she figured out how to hunt, and taught us to do it for ourselves. She taught us how to sew, how to cook, how to treat an injury and mend broken things. She also taught us how to count and read, and how to write our names. Naoki as _Amended hope_ , and Chika as _Thousand maples_.

I asked one time, “why maple?”.

She said, “In flower language, maple means Beautiful Change. You are the ones who will bring back Hope and Change to this village.” And stroked my cheek.

I’ve never seen a maple, but since that time, I imagine it’s the prettiest flower that exists. 

One day, when I was 8, I became the guardian of a 6 years old child. It was a snowy day in January last year. I still remember the sound of the wind blowing through the door, the shivering cold air, and the spreading cold in my chest as I watched her go blue. 

She taught us how to survive, but she didn’t know how to fight the disease.  
I took her body away while Chika wasn’t watching, and buried her in the woods. Chika didn’t stop asking for mom for months after that.

I don’t know why the disease hasn’t got us yet. But if we’re alive, we’ll fight to stay alive.

While Chika’s lamenting over the frog she can’t have, I hear a squirrel in the woods.

_Shrrrrrrrrr_

It's a brown squirrel— a rare treat.

“Shhh. Stay there, Chika. Don’t move.” I whisper, pointing my knife at the squirrel. I steady my breath, lock on my target, and throw the knife.  
Swoof goes the knife, as the _shrrrrrrr_ sound stops, followed by a _thud_  on the ground with the _rustle_ of the leaves.

We have something to eat today— our first food in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise their story is connected to the plot, and Naoki has a big role in the case. *v*
> 
> Naoki- 直希　Chika- 千楓


	10. September 6th, 2015—   12:25 pm, Tochigi

“Detective Aomine, join me for lunch,” Kanda says, grinning with a look in his eyes. I can almost see Taiga doing the same.

“Gladly,” I say. Gotta know who you’re working with.

He brings me to a ramen place nearby.

“Their Miso-ramen’s really good.” He smiles and holds the door for me.

“Hahh, detective,” I smirk “keep your kindness to your woman.”

He’s silent.

When the waiter comes by, he asks me to order first, and I do.

“One shio-ramen with egg and extra pork, fried dumplings, and water.”

“And what would you like sir?” she turns towards Kanda,

“The usual, please,” he says. Of course. He’s a regular.

“Understood. I will repeat the orders, so please check if it’s correct.” She turns to me, ”One shio-ramen with egg and extra pork, fried dumplings, and water for you, sir,” looking at Kanda, “and the usual orders for you. Was that all?”

“Yes, thank you.” He replies.

“Understood. Please wait for a moment.” She retreats.

“So,” Kanda starts, “When did you come to Tochigi?”

“Just yesterday, at around 9 pm, by the train.”

“Seriously? That’s tough. Explains your dark circles.” He smirks.

“Can’t be helped. It was a short notice and I had a lot to wrap up there. I didn’t have enough sleep these days.” I say. Was that why he was studying me so hard? And why is he so frank on our first meeting? Not that it bothers me, but he’s got some nerves.

“…That’s actually my fault. I was the one who asked for you.” He says.

 _…What was that?_ I shoot him a confused look. “…Do we know each other?” I say. With his attitude, I’d be pissed if we don’t.

He only grins, and before he could speak, the orders come out, starting with our drinks. He got miso-ramen with egg and extra pork; I got shio with egg and extra pork, and fried dumplings. Fair enough.

But there’s more.

A full portion fried rice, fried chicken, chicken wings, two plates of fried dumplings, and two plates of deep-fried ham cutlets arrive. I can’t believe my eyes. Who in the world would—  
When I look up at him, he’s already eating with his cheeks full. I know this so well. I know him.

“—aiga?” I’m too shocked it comes out as a whisper. I try again, but louder. ”Kagami Taiga!” I gasp.

He’s looking at me like an alien and starts coughing and choking on his food. That must’ve surprised him.

“I wasn’t expecting a shout,” he says, clearing his throat with water.

“How did you—” I don’t know where to begin, or what to ask. “You’re Kagami Taiga, right?”

“’Was’, yeah, I changed my name,” he says, ”and hair color. I’m also wearing contacts and plucking my brows to a normal shape. Even you couldn’t recognize me huh.” He says, looking proud.

He’s deliberately hiding. I have a bad feeling about this.  
  
“Why would you dress up like that? How are you alive? Why didn’t you reach out to the police? _For 20 fucking years?_ Where were you?” I blurt out. I can't help myself. I feel like he'll slip away if I don't catch him now.

“Calm down, Daiki." he says, "I'll tell you everything, but not at once.” holding up his hands.

_‘Daiki’_

I thought I'd never hear him say my name again. I feel all sorts of emotions bubbling up.

 _How long were you trying to hide like that? Why did you disappear? What happened to our basketball?  
_ _Why did you leave me?_

I want to ask, but he’s already hushing me down.

“Eat first.” He says “We’re taking our leave for the rest of the day. I want to talk to you somewhere else.” His eyes swim around as he speaks, and then finally land back on me, ”By the way, call me Kuugo in public. I’ll explain everything later.”


	11. April 20th, 1972—   Fukushima

It’s getting warmer every day. I’m out in the forest to do the monthly laundry.

“Naoki, how’s your water supply doing?” says aunt Shizuka, as she walks towards me with her laundry bag and a human head sized bucket filled with water.

“Almost at the bottom,” I say, wiping my face with my sleeves, moving the hair out of the way. I need to cut them soon. 

“If it doesn’t rain soon before you run out of water, come pick up some from my house, understand?”

“Yes, thank you, aunt Shizuka.”

She lives alone, not that far from our house. We share our supplies whenever either of us is in need. She was mom’s best friend. A partner in crime, she said.

“How’s Chii-chan doing?” she asks, settling down beside me.

“She said she wanted a frog. I said no, and now she wants a bird.” I say.

“Oh dear.” She smiles. I see her dimple on her right cheek. “Your mom used to want a dog. She once made friends with a guy just for the dog. You remember the guy named Satou Kenichi?”

I pause to remember, “… no, I don’t. Is he alive?”

“No, he was one of the people who escaped in the second escape attempt 5 years after the isolation, when you were 3 and Chii-chan was 1.”

“Oh…”

“… In the end, she was glad she didn’t get a dog. That would’ve been another mouth to feed for her.”

“I’m glad too.”

I like hearing about mom. I feel her presence when we’re talking about her. Like she’s also here to share the smiles and giggles, and sometimes the sorrow too.  
I learned that she used to play pranks on the juniors in her school, loved riding her bicycle, used to sing and play the piano so beautifully with ease, it’d feel like you were sitting near a flowing river on a sunny day in the forest.  
She used to have loving parents, both of whom she’d lost when she was 19. She loved the color blue, loved the sunset over the rice field, liked to have her hair braided, but would let them down when the wind blows in the summer and shout “Freeeeedoooom!!!”.

She also loved reading books.  
This I knew since she kept several dozens of them in the house.

Her favorites were the short stories by Akutagawa Ryuunosuke. Trolley, Spider’s Thread, Kappa, etc; we have a whole collection in the house.

After him, she’d fallen in love with Natsume Souseki, who was also Akutagawa’s teacher. Aunt Shizuka emphasized that part with her eyes widening and brows going up. For her, Natsume Souseki was better than Akutagawa in many respects. They’d argue about it often, but in the end, they both loved the teacher and student relationship their favorites authors had and reading all the stories they've written.

I read them sometimes too. They bring me to somewhere else. Somewhere where it feels like I’m actually around people, interacting with them, feeling them, and sometimes I even get to smell them in my mind. The smell of smoke must be similar to the smell of papers burning in fire. The smell of perfume, I figured, must be that of the flowers. The smell of sweat, well, I know this well enough.

I still have one question I haven’t asked aunt Shizuka yet. About our father. Mom never told us anything about him. He must be dead, is my guess, or else he would’ve come to us.  
So I don’t ask. I don’t need to. 

But sometimes I’m curious. It’d be cool to have a last name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natsume Souseki and Akutagawa Ryuunosuke are two of the most respected and well-known writers in Japan. Their stories are all classics, but not really for a 9 years old, both story-wise, and literary-wise.


	12. September 6th, 2015—    3:20 pm, Tochigi city

We took the rest of the day off and came to the Tochigi sports park right behind the police station.

Soccer field, track & field, baseball field, pool, tennis field, archery, even a fishing field; this place has everything, and we’re here for the gymnasium.

The gymnasium required active wears, but all I had was the black tank top I wear under my black shirt and suits. (Who would’ve thought you'd find the Kagami Taiga on a plain old Monday in a countryside police station?) So I’m wearing Taiga’s spare shorts and shoes. They fit me perfectly.

There weren't many people here at this hour on a Monday. We find ourselves the best hoops available, and after some light stretches and warm-ups, we start playing.

“I hope you didn’t get worse, Daiki,” he says, imitating me from when I was a brat, and dribbling the ball.

“Just pray that you can keep up with me,” I say, unable to suppress a smile.

He’s standing in front of me, crouching a little and dribbling the ball. Observing him, I move forward and snatch the ball, run straight towards the hoop and score the first score before he could react. I see he’s pissed, and also impressed. “Is that all you’ve got? C’mooon Taiga.” I tease.

“Bring it on.” He says with a smile, the fire in his eyes sending shivers through my body. I can still see that firey red even with his black hair and brown eyes.  
It’s burning the air. 

—10 vs. 10, we’re both beat and lying on the floor, huffing and sweating.

Finally _._

It’s been 20 years since this feeling.  
The realization hit me, and I start laughing. I’m speechless.  
He’s amazing.

Now he’s laughing too.

We’re both on the floor, laughing, looking up at the lights overhead for a moment, and then I hear him say it.

“Happy birthday, Daiki.” 

I can’t see his expressions. I want to. I sit up, expecting him to do the same, and he does.

“6 days late… 20 years and 6 days, I guess…” he says, but I cut him off.

“I waited for you the whole day at your front door that day,” I blurt.

“…You did?” he pauses, ”…Was there anyone or anything in the house?” he asks, but it's not really a question. He knows the answer.

“It was empty— and hauntingly silent. It still comes up in my dreams sometimes.”

Silence.

“…I should tell you what happened. How I escaped and— why I disappeared.” He says.

I look at him in the eyes, waiting for him to speak, but he doesn’t continue.

He only says, “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.” 

So we head out.

— It was near sunset when we went out.

We needed food.  
There were several Japanese restaurants around, but we've decided on KFC since we already had ramen for lunch.

“Actually, I’ve never missed a year to celebrate your birthday y’know? It’s just that you were far away that it couldn’t reach you.” Taiga says out of the blue, and those words are somehow stifling.

“Yeah? I often forgot about my birthday though. It’s the day you went missing after all.”

“Well, sorry about that,” he says in a playful, sarcastic tone.

This moment feels so nostalgic, and yet, so slippery, I hope it'll last this time.  
I catch myself in midst of the thought. —Seriously? What am I getting so emotional for? I burst a laugh.

“What is it?” he asks, looking confused.

“Nothing, idiot,” I smirk.

“The ‘idiot’ was unnecessary, stupid."

“…you haven't changed,” I say, warmth spreading in my chest. He’s still the same Taiga I’ve always known.

“…Neither have you." he says, "I don’t know how you’ve survived in the society.”

I laugh, “You’re still an officially missing member of that society.”

“As long as I have food and a good exercise to break a sweat, I’m fine with it. I can eat a whole cow right now though.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re almost there.”

We start walking faster, and it feels good.  
I'm feeling lighter than I’ve ever allowed myself to feel in 20 years.

The September wind was cool against our cheeks. The evening cold sneaks into our body through our bare neck, almost making us shiver.  
The sun was setting. The sky was purple with a yellow glow and bright orange clouds spreading across.

It was hard to believe that this wasn’t all just a dream.


	13. May 25th, 1972—    Fukushima

Last week, aunt Shizuka told me to come often to her house. She said it might be her time. She didn’t want to be found rotten in the house, especially since in all probability, it’ll be us who’ll find her.

I didn’t want to see another person die in front of me, but neither do I want Chika to see it in my place. It’s her last wish, and "last wishes are to be fulfilled," mom had said when she asked me to take good care of Chika. Then she closed her eyes and never opened them again.

Aunt Shizuka’s been cheerful these days, although her conditions gotten worse. She’s already bed bound, completely lost her appetite (which she’s glad since she doesn’t have much food, to begin with), and gotten so skinny her skull is traceable.

She said she wanted to talk and needs a company. So I sit beside her bed and listen.

“Now, Naoki,” she begins, “have I told you about your father?”

I’m surprised, and say, “No, you haven’t. I thought I shouldn’t ask.”

“Your mother wanted me to tell you when you were old enough. But I’m afraid I have no time to see you grow any more than the little Nao-kun you are right now.” She says, smiling.

“I’ll be 10 this September. I think I can take it.” I say.

She pauses, as if she’d never heard of this, and says, “I must’ve forgotten to count the years correctly. I mean…I thought you were younger. It must be the food, you should eat mor—” another pause. She looks sad. “…I’m so sorry Naoki. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you and your sister, more. You’re so small, and still, so, so mature.” I see her tear up. “I’m certain your mother is very, very proud of you, child.”

“…I hope so.” I say, and drop my gaze to my laps.

We sit there in silence for a moment, and then she starts telling me about our father.

His name was Kanda Yuusaku. He was a tall man with the biggest grin and the shiniest teeth, she said, and he smelled like the soil, as he was a farmer who grew vegetables and rice. He loved his family, and he loved our mom. They met at the rice field one summer evening when mom was alone, gazing at the reflected sunset over the rice field when they were both 17. He told her he had always seen her there and wondered what she was doing. Aunt Shizuka swears he was in love with mom even before he approached her since he was generally shy and soft-spoken, and yet he came up to her from himself. He was very kind and big-hearted, she said and would do anything for mom.

Anything but one.

The villagers’ first attempt to escape happened right after the isolation. Almost half of the villagers died trying, and left the others in constant fear for their lives. They thought maybe the government will come to the village to kill them all at once. But the government wasn’t willing to sacrifice their men like that, and their reputation was on the line if they’d done that.

The first year after the isolation wasn’t that bad. Food was still available for all, and people were still helping each other out. The second year was tougher than the first, but it was still manageable with the hunts. After the fourth, it was even worse. People were dying of starvation, as well as the disease. There were violent fights all the time, theft was an everyday matter, and worst of all, people had lost their spirits and kindness to each other. They’d become like wild animals, hungry and constantly fighting.

But regardless of how bad it was in the village, mom was always against the escape. She believed she could live a better life in the village if she could figure out how to survive. Besides, she had a kid by the second year and a second one by the fourth.

Dad was of her opinion too— until he was persuaded otherwise.

His brother believed that the government loosened its guard and that we should be able to escape without being noticed. “If we could get out of here, we’d have freedom, food, and a more comfortable life.” He’d said, and Dad believed him. They gathered several of the remaining men, proceeded with the plan, and failed miserably.

Dad always put his family over anything else. So, although they were married and mom was dad’s family too, he put his brother over mom and his children. "Were we not enough for him? Maybe he didn’t love us after all," mom thought and came to discuss with aunt Shizuka often.

Or maybe it was because he did love mom and us that he wanted to believe his brother’s words, so we could all live a comfortable life as a family outside the village. Not because we were the second best option for him.  
That’s the conclusion mom reached over the years.

—The room goes silent. I don’t know what to say.

Knowing that we’ve had a father who loved us, it’s suddenly making me feel lonely. Suddenly, the fact that Chika and I’ve lost both of our parents feels so real, and the weight of it is crushing.

I never cried when mom died. I couldn’t have Chika worried or scared.  
I sniffle and grit my teeth, fighting the tears— then I realize that I’m not actually tearing up, and my nose is completely dry. I haven’t drunk anything for two days so that Chika would have water to drink.

Aunt Shizuka reaches out her arms and wraps them around me, and I can’t bear it anymore. I feel like a child.

And then I remember— I am a child.

* * *

  _June 14 th, 1972—_

_Fukushima_

It’s raining today. We’ve got our water buckets outside, and then ourselves. We stand under the rain, each with a piece of cloth in hands, naked, and start scrubbing ourselves. It feels good. We should savor it.

It’s finally the rain season.

I’m off to aunt Shizuka’s place today too, and as soon as I arrive, I take out her water buckets and bring her a cup of water.

She’s sitting up in her bed, waiting for me. I hand her the cup, but she puts it aside and sinks back into her bed.  
She’s been quiet today. Tired, but alive. Breathing.

I’m sitting beside her, waiting for her to speak.

She waves her hand so I could pay attention to her, and says softly, “…Nao, can you read me a Natsume Souseki novel?” so I do.

“Which one is your favorite?” I ask, and she says “I Am A Cat.”

—The rain kept falling until the next morning.

Aunt Shizuka had fallen asleep while I was reading her the novel. I checked her pulse. It was beating faintly. But when I went out to get a piece of damp cloth to wipe her face, her pulse had stopped completely.

It dawns on me that I don’t know anything about her, other than that she was mom’s best friend.  
I should’ve asked more questions. Now it’s too late.

Two days later when the soil was dry enough, I buried her near where I buried mom.  
Flowers were blooming around the area, so I relocated some of them right over where they lay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-->"I Am A Cat" is the most popular Natsume Souseki novel, about a cat observing humans living their lives. It was innovative at the time to write something from an animal's perspective.
> 
> \-->also, Kanda Naoki... who? :D


	14. A Thread

_August 8th, 1972, Fukushima—_

We're going out to the village today, to the library. We’ve already gone through mom’s book collection as well as aunt Shizuka’s, and now we need something else to save us from boredom.

We’re walking along the main road right across the village. We can see everything from here.

“It’s weird that we’ve never tried to explore this place! We’ve had a full chest of treasure right in front of us!” says Chika, smiling. She’s walking fast, almost skipping, while humming a song mom used to love.

“There might be people around here. We can’t be too careful so stay close, Chika.” I say, trying to catch up to her pace.

But then she suddenly stops. I almost bump into her as I let out a surprised “whoa there, hey!”, while flapping my arms back and forth like wings.

She’s looking at something on the right.

I follow her gaze, and I see two grown men talking there. They look clean, well dressed, and healthy. None of those implied that they were from the village.

I look back at Chika, alarmed. She’s frozen. I couldn’t tear her eyes from the men, nor could I move her from where she stands.

“Chika! Let’s get away from here!” I say, pinching her fingers, hoping she’d snap out of it by the pain, but they’re so boney and so are mine, the damage goes both ways and we both shudder at the pain as we fall down to a squat.

“We should go back. They might be anyone… If they’re from the government, they’ll kill us.” I say, trying to keep her attention, but I’ve already lost it.

One of the men had already found us, standing behind me, it seems. Chika’s looking up past me with her big round eyes, horrified and voiceless.

* * *

“Hey there! What’re you guys doing here?” says the man. We’re both paralyzed, still glued to the ground. “…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He adds, and it makes him sound even scarier.

After some silence, he starts, “I’m Kagami Taisei. I’ve come here from Tokyo with my parents. We were supposed to be in Yamagata, but we're lost." a pause, "Somehow we managed to find your village, and we were hoping to ask the people here for help, but there's no one in sight. Is this a ghost village or something?” he says, with a playful tone in his last sentence.

He’s… not from the government?

Chika and I seem to be thinking the same thing. We exchange glances, and suddenly, we’re breathing. Our muscles relax and we slump deeper into our squats.

“…It is a ghost village, sir.” I say, and stand up and turn around to look at him.

He’s wearing dark pants and a short-sleeved white shirt. I’ve never seen anything so white, except for the snow… and maybe the winter rabbits. I notice his weird brows, split in two at the ends.

“Have you not come across the armed men surrounding this area?” I continue, ”You shouldn’t have come here, sir, there’s no way out of this village.”

Now it’s his turn to freeze. I can almost see the “You’ve got to be kidding me!” written all over him.

I hear Chika chuckle from behind, and I can’t resist a smile.  
I mean, seriously. _Poor guy._

“…Are you playing tricks on me?” he says, seeing us smile.

“No sir.” I say, trying to look serious and failing, “We can give you a tour around the village if you like old empty houses and rotten corpses.”

Before he could say anything, Chika starts talking, “Where are your parents, mister? Did you come by car? I’ve heard they are very useful. I read it in one of our books the other day.” She says with curiosity in her voice.

“… You’ve never seen a car? Have you ever gone out of this place?” he says, even though he should be able to tell from how we look.

“…No, mister. We were born here, and grew up here.” Chika says, ”We can’t really get out of here. Half of the people who used to live here died being sho—. 

“That’s enough Chika.” I cut her off. He doesn’t need the details. He can be anyone. ”We need to get home before sunset, sir, and we have things to do, so if you’ll excuse us,” I say, and pull Chika’s arm and start walking away from him.

“Nao-nii!” Chika groans, and then shouts at the man as she stumbles along after me, “I hope you’ll find your way out, mister! Oh, do you have any book recommendation? We need some new books to read.”

“...Maybe Akutagawa. Get his stuff if you can find them.” He shouts back.

And then I hear Chika shout again, “That’s old news, mister! We’ve read everything by him. We know them by heart.” in a cheerful voice. She turns back to me and looks at me with a proud, innocent grin and says "he probably doesn't know the stories by heart, word-to-word, like us, does he?" and giggles.

"But he probably does understand the meanings. Remember what mom told us about the deeper meanings in them? The reason why she liked his stuff, even though they're children's stories."

"I know them too! 'Trolley' was about growing up. 'Spider's Thread' was about the selfish human nature, and so on. I heard her saying it thousand times."

* * *

We’re heading back, each with arms full of books.

Chika seems unsettled on our way back. She’s been looking around everywhere, probably for the strangers from this morning.

I silently follow her.

If they can find their way out, that’s good for them, although they’ll probably be shot. If they can’t, they’ll die here like the rest of us. Food will become even scarcer, so maybe Chika and I’ll die from starvation as well.

...When did I start seeing death as something so near?

The sun is setting on our left. On the road ahead, there’s someone waving at us. It’s him. Chika is already running towards him with her books in her arms. She always seems to slip away before I notice.

I guess we’ll all die sooner or later anyway. No harm in having someone you know around. I’ll at least tell him not to escape at this point.

—He came over to our house and told us about what’s happening outside the village.

There’s a festival called the Olympics, that happened in Sapporo in the north this February, where people from around the world do what he called _‘_ sports’ for rewards and recognition. It apparently symbolizes peace in the world. A world is so, so, so much bigger than this village, and there are almost 4 billion people in the world. A billion has 9 zeros. _Almost 4 billion people!_ But only two in this village. That’s _crazy._

When Chika fell asleep, he asked about what happened to this village, and I told him everything. He couldn’t believe in my words, but the village itself was the evidence, so he couldn’t deny it either— except for one thing.

He said that there are no armed men surrounding this place now, and we can get out of here. He said he managed to go back to Yamagata with his parents, and then he came back for us.

I said I won’t believe it, and we won’t go out just to be killed. So he brought a bag from his car as evidence and brings out some ‘sandwiches’, some ‘croquettes’, some ‘chicken nuggets’, and a tea in a tall sturdy container, still warm.

“The fried ones are fresh from the street market, and the sandwiches are from a café. Also fresh.” He says, offering me the ‘sandwiches’.

“A… caf—… what?” he looks like an alien at this point.

“It’s a place where you can eat snacks and drink coffees and teas.”

“So, what do you do with these?” I ask, pointing at the sandwiches, not wanting to hear any more foreign terms.

He grabs one, and pinches all of the layers together and bites into them at once, and says, “You eat it like this,” with a grin.

That night was the fullest I've ever felt, and there was more food left for Chika too.

* * *

The next morning, we left the village under a light rain. After a little while, the sun came out and there was even a rainbow, but right ahead of us not too far away was a heavy dark gray cloud, rumbling and flickering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-->Thread - from "Spider's Thread". In the story, a spider's thread was dangled down to Hell for a guy who did enough to get in there, but once spared the life of a spider. Budha dangled the thread, thinking he might know the value of a living being, but the thread breaks when the guy looks down and sees other people climbing up after him, and says, "Hey, you sinners, this is mine. Go back down."


	15. Stuck in Time

_September 6 th, 2015 _

_19:25pm, Tochigi city_

Upon deciding on who's place to go, we’re heading to Taiga’s house. Mine is still a mess from the move. 

Taiga’s house was at the north-west part of the city, not too far from the police station. Among the endless rows of modern houses, there stands an old-fashioned house with a stone fence and the nameplate “Kanda”.

In the front yard, there are two Japanese pine trees and two apricot trees.  
The first-floor of the house is dark brown wood, and the second floor is painted in pale cream color, and they have the old-fashioned roof over the house. Everything looks like they came from the Edo period, from the 1600s.

The yard ground is clean and organized, not like the often messy and cluttered average house.

We walk toward the door, and as soon as Taiga opens the door, we hear a man’s voice from inside.

“Kuugo, you’re back?” the voice says, and I glance at Taiga.

“I’m back, pops. How is your knee?” he shouts back.  _Pops?_  Did he just call him dad?

“It’s still stiff as a board.”

“I brought a colleague home, was that fine with you? We’re not drinking.”

“Yeah, do whatever you want.”

“Taiga, what’s going on?” I ask him in a whisper.

But he only says, “Come on in,” as we take off our shoes, and he starts walking to the second floor.

On the way there, I see their living room door open.  
I glance into the room where the voice came out— A thin man in probably around his late 40s is sitting there on the bamboo-matted floor, reading a book. He looks up and catches us passing, so he waves at us and says “Good evening, detective. I’m Kanda Naoki. Kuugo’s dad. Make yourself at home.” apparently talking to me, and smiles.

“Good evening, sir,” I say with a nod. There’s something wrong here. A sense of unease twists my stomach.

The doors are all sliding doors here— some made of glass with wooden frames, some made of paper with wooden frames— and the walls are the old thin white walls with wooden frames.

He's leading me to his room on the right from the staircase. His room only has the basic things you’d need; a bed, a closet, a bookshelf, and a desk. Right next to the door is the wooden shelf, covering the entire wall from the floor to the ceiling. Files and folders take most of the space on his shelf instead of books, and shoeboxes take the bottom 1/4th of the space. On the left of the room are a brown wooden desk and an armchair right under the window, with a black laptop sitting on the desk. His bed is at the center, and on the right is the closet with the paper sliding door.

I walk after him, slide the door shut behind me, and ask, “So? What happened? Or, what’s happening?”

He tells me to sit on the bed, and as I do, I see a basketball on the corner beside the desk. I silently take a deep breath, grasping onto the only familiar thing here.

“I’ll start with how I ran away, and what really happened in the house. Give me a moment.” He says and starts changing his clothes.

He's stripping his clothes one by one. His body is solid and well defined— nothing like how he was when we were brats.  
His muscles flex in flow with every movement. How would his raw skin feel now that he's grown up? His smooth and warm skin over the firm muscles, his breath on my shoulder so close that it’s audible, the faint smell of sweat mixed with his shampoo and… I look away, catching myself midway and refusing to go any further.  
_Seriously?_ Where did that come from?

“You need a change?” he asks, bringing out some clothes.

“No, I'm fine. I’m not staying over anyway.” I say, and he puts away the clothes.

He sits down beside me and looks straight into my eyes with his now-naked red eyes. They’re so familiar and yet, just with that hint of red, they become several times more intimidating.

Without breaking the eye contact, he starts telling me what he saw in the kitchen, how he ran from the man until his soles bled, and how he came here in disguise. He’d lost his voice in the first few days here, still shaken by what he witnessed. He started dying his hair, wearing contacts and reshaping his brows since around then, fearing that whoever the man chasing him was might come and find him, which apparently they did.  _They._

“Why didn’t you go to the police?” I ask.

“Dad told me not to.” He says.

“… the guy you’re calling pops?”

“No, my real dad, Kagami Taisei. He was acting weird towards the last days before it happened. He said if anything happened to him and mom, I should go to Naoki’s place here, and that I can’t report it to the police.”

“So he knew it was going to happen? Why didn’t he try moving away or do something to prevent it?”

“It would've been useless. Here, I’ll show you.” He says and takes out a white folder from his shelf. “I collected this from grandma’s place. I went there a few years ago, told her I was dad’s friend from the police, and she let me in. They're some of the information dad saved in his disks.” He opens the folder and hands it to me. “Not sure what that list is about, but I think it has to do with why he didn’t want me to report the case.”

On the page he opened, there are photos and descriptions of— “…Policemen?”

“That’s not all. Flip the pages.” He says with a nod.

The pages are filled with names of people from doctors, scientist, bank workers, diplomats, to teachers, managers, and—  
I spot the Naoki guy under the name Yuusaku.

“What’s he doing here?” 

“He’s one of them. And dad was too. Whatever  _they_  are.”

“…Wait, no, you’re not saying—” But apparently he  _is_  saying—

“I think this case wasn’t just a murder, but something bigger.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Do you think the police really searched everywhere? Did they really investigate everything?” he says, ”They could’ve easily traced me up until Shibuya station with the K9s. But why didn’t they?” He looks at me in the eyes and gives me a moment to think.

“…because they wanted to kill you as well?”

"Yeah. But the news already publicly announced that we were missing, so...?"

“...If they found you in all that fuss, they would’ve had to announce it, and that it wasn’t a spirited away case after all…"

"Which means...?"

"...Which means they would be caught at some point, so... they didn’t even try?”

_So they didn’t even try._

I continue, “That’s why no matter how long it’s been, we still had nothing. Because they  _wanted_  there to be nothing so that we might eventually forget about it.” Which means most of my life was just a fucking lie.

“Exactly. It would’ve been no use even if I did report it to the police. I probably would’ve died right then and there.” He says.

“…So what happened with that guy Naoki? Wouldn’t he be a threat?”

“He… has a dissociative amnesia. Systemized amnesia, it seems… and he thinks I’m his actual son."

"...Yeah? Since when?"

"He was fine when I first came here.” He says, “He knew I was Kagami Taiga and that my dad was Kagami Taisei. Dad was someone important to him, and it seems like they really trusted each other, so dad told me to come here if anything happened. The first week while I was here, he told me so much about dad that it seemed impossible for him to forget or betray him.” He pauses. “One morning on the second week, he went out saying that he was called to Tokyo and he won’t be back till around 10 pm, but he only came back two days later, calling me his son. He didn’t remember anything about dad… or his own sister.”

“He has a sister?” I ask.

“Had. Kanda Chika. Not sure about the details, but I don’t think she’s still around.”

“and he doesn’t remember what happened that day in Tokyo?”

“Nope. Whatever it was, it can’t be anything good.”

 _Vrrrrrr._  We both jolt a little hearing my phone vibrate. Takagi’s name is lighting up on the screen. I look at Taiga, and he says, “Go on.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” I say as I pick up the call.

“Aomine, I think I’ve found something. It might be tied to that Kagami family case.” He says.

“Yeah? I'm listening.”

“I always found the inactivity for that case odd. It seemed like there were a lot more you could’ve done within the first few years while the case was still fresh and relatively more traceable. It’s like they’ve abandoned it from the beginning.”

“Yeah.”

“I went through some other disappearance cases, and there were about 3 others that were similarly  _‘abandoned’_  from the beginning. That's from one day of research, I don't know how many will pop up in total.”

I glance at Taiga. He’s flipping through the folder he brought out.

“I see what you’re saying, thanks. I’ll drop by the Shibuya office tomorrow when you’re finished with work— at around 8 pm.” I say, and catch Taiga’s gaze.

“Got it,” Takagi says and ends the call.

“It's my former partner in Shibuya. He might've found something.” I tell Taiga. “You’re coming right?”

“Of course I’m coming,” he says with a determined grin, it makes me feel like we can do anything together.

So I pick up his pillow on the bed and throw at him. He groans, "What the heck. What's that for?"

"You looked so damn confident it pissed me off," I say and he rolls his eyes. When his eyes finally land back on mine, I add, "We'll solve this case no matter what. Together." and his daring smile returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> Edo period was from 1603 to 1867, apparently lasted for 265 years, 1 week and 2 days.
> 
> \--> The "bamboo matted floor" is the Japanese traditional floor mat-ish thingy made from bamboo, called "Tatami". I like to think of it as the actual floor since it covers the whole floor, but it needs to be aired and cleaned once in a while, so I guess it's a mat.
> 
> \--> Systemized amnesia -> No memory of a certain category of information, such as certain person or place. Causes can be extreme traumas such as accident traumas, extreme abuse etc, concentration camp level stuff.


End file.
